I’m drawn to the ocean. I have been since I was a small child, gathering sea glass on the beach with my grandmother. When I look out at the vast expanse of water, I feel a longing that I can’t explain.  It’s more than just the sense that my problems are so very small in this big world, or an appreciation of the pure beauty of it. It’s a tugging, a pull deep in the recesses of my soul, trying to remind me of something I can’t quite grasp. As corny as it sounds, my heart actually aches at the sight of the sea. It is in those moments that I very seriously consider the notion of reincarnation. It seems to be the only thing that can explain the feeling that I’m lost and some little seaside village in another place and time is my home.

This sense, this crazy melodramatic feeling, is always followed by a strong desire to write stories. I just want to hide away somewhere for days, digging into that part of me that has lived a million lives. Instead, I usually just continue as I was, living day to day with a small, clearly defined hole in my heart and every excuse in the book repeating in my head.

The ocean does this to me. I know it, and I ignore it more often than not because, well, I see the ocean every day. Sometimes, though, that need to narrate is awakened by something unexpected; a photograph, a painting, or a song. I love when that happens, when inspiration strikes and I just have to sit down and write something.

The music of Mumford & Sons strikes that chord with me. Now that you think I’m completely insane, I’m going to end my slightly embarrassing diatribe right here, because the music really speaks for itself.

Here’s a little Mumford to start your Monday. Have a lovely week!


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